Revealing the Monster (Playing with Monsters #4) by Amelia Hutchins

“That I know of, yes. More often than not, I don’t stick around to find out if I’ve fathered a child. If they’re mine, their mother doesn’t survive long enough to ask for help with them, either. To be honest, I wasn’t certain I’d be able to create life after my father had finished with me. I knew the cost Kendra would pay for it, but I didn’t know you at the time, Lena. I’m not sorry for creating Makenna; I can’t be. She’s too perfect to regret.”

“She is perfect,” I admitted, watching her with a tightening in my chest that physically ached.

I lowered my lips to her forehead, feeling the heat coming from her. Makenna was a Nephilim, and they were dangerous creatures. Could I protect her? I couldn’t even escape the apartment where Lucian held me locked away, not that I’d really tried yet. Luc was a protective father. He was attached to Makenna, which was visible by the way he watched over her and cared for her.

I held her out for Lucifer to take her back, noticing how his eyes lifted to hold mine. I smiled tightly, noting his narrowing gaze as if he thought I was rejecting her. Something changed in his posture, and I shook my head, knowing he was assuming wrong.

“I miss my child, too, Luc,” I whispered brokenly, and he nodded his head in realization as he retrieved Makenna from me.

“For what it’s worth, Lena, I am sorry. Grief and rage had fueled my actions. Katarina had a plan that seemed like a good idea to make Lucian pay for what he’d done to us. I hope you understand that I regret my part in it now that I know you. Makenna wasn’t a part of this fight, so when Lucian comes for me, remember her. Eventually, this will spiral out of control, and she’s innocent.” He leaned closer to me, brushing his lips against my forehead as the room started spinning around me.

I appeared back inside the bedroom, lifting my gaze to the darkened corner. I found Lucian sitting in the shadows, studying me as a deep growl escaped him. Leaning forward into the light, he steepled his hands in front of his mouth. His posture was rigid and deadly, and his eyes burned with anger.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked softly.

“No, but he allowed me to hold Makenna. He loves her, Lucian.”

“Lucifer doesn’t care about anything or anyone except himself.” He stood to remove his suit jacket, slowly folding it to set it aside. “Be careful with him, Lena. He may have been an angel, but he’s long since abandoned any decency he once held. I’m going to shower, and you will join me. I intend to rest without smelling him on your skin, let alone knowing you allowed him to taste your tears. Come, I enjoy my showers with you more than I do alone.”





Chapter Twenty-One




To be hurt by those who love us is a lesson. We should learn from it and seek more. Those who love us teach us the hardest lessons. But to never learn from them would be a tragedy. ~Lena



Soft music played inside the bedroom, drifting into the steam-filled bathroom. Lucian washed deliciously smelling soap over my body, ridding it of Lucifer’s scent. I wasn’t stupid or fooled into dropping my guard. I could feel the anger radiating off Lucian in soft waves, slithering over my flesh in a warning. He was pissed off that I’d been with Lucifer, but it wasn’t like I’d gone to him willingly.

I grabbed the rose-scented shampoo, lathering it into my hair while he stewed behind me. He hadn’t spoken, but I didn’t need words to know what he thought. I had no reason to ask him what his problem was, just like he didn’t need me to tell him that I hadn’t asked his permission because it wasn’t warranted.

“Finish up and rinse Lucifer’s touch from your body,” he growled, stepping out of the shower into the steam rolling out of the stall. “You’re being presented to the club tonight as my Queen, Lena. I won’t have my guests catching that asshole’s scent on my woman. Do you understand me?” His angry, sexily rasped voice caused my thighs to clench with need.

“I understand, Lucian,” I replied, rinsing the soap from my hair before adding conditioner. Turning, I peered at where he stood outside the shower.

Steam billowed around him, drifting off of his body to add to the steam already filling the room. It was so thick that I could barely make out his pretty midnight gaze. His head tilted forward and followed the suds slowly dripping over my breasts. Or maybe he was looking lower? I couldn’t be certain with the room holding more steam than a sauna.

I washed every inch of my skin, scrubbing it until it was raw to eradicate Lucifer’s cinnamon and brimstone scent. I pushed my fingers against my clit, and I groaned with need from a single brush against the swollen nub.

How many days had it been without reaching climax? I’d lost count after he’d fucked me so hard and made me shatter to oblivion with the orgasms when he’d reclaimed me.

Once again, he had ordered me not to come in that foreign tongue, which meant I spent days fucking him, never climaxing until permitted to find release. Not that it wasn’t hot, or that those orgasms, when given, weren’t some of the strongest ones of my entire life. In fact, I was beginning to crave them more than the ones that came in between when he’d released me from the compulsion to come freely.

I was a masochist at heart, and we both knew it. I loved when he took control and owned my desire. He played my body like a musician, learning a song for the first time. Every chord he played, every hymn he hummed, and every music note ended in pleasure, and I would sing right along with him.